


even the truth was a lie

by unlitstars



Series: nothing ever lasts forever. [1]
Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: AND IT’S GONE, Angst, Betrayals, Blood, Branding, Crying, Death, Death Threats, Grief, Heists, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, I love planning some good murder, Identity Reveal, Kinda, Kissing, Last Chance, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Murder, Pandora - Freeform, Pandora!Shinichi, Philosophy, Rating may be Changed, Romance, STOP READING RIGHT NOW IF YOU DON’T WANT TO SEE ANY SPOILERS, Tags Will be Updated as I Update, Torture, Violence, WOO, Writer!Shinichi, alternative universe, casefic, dead bodies, detective!Yuusaku, eventual kaishin, getting close to it with my “research”, injuries, of a sort, oh well, poem, tags are such spoilers, torture aftermath, wait I sound like a serial killer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 07:50:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17240360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unlitstars/pseuds/unlitstars
Summary: In a world steeped in darkness, where even those meant to help were a beacon of tainted light, Shinichi lived in a bubble of faux security, paid for by those sworn to secrecy.The crows came to destroy, and the murder wouldn’t stop until they attain their goal.As the shadows stalked closer and closer to him, the lies became seen as the singular truth.And what was the truth, but a lie agreed upon?





	even the truth was a lie

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** If I owned either Detective Conan or Magic Kaito, everything I write would be  _ canon. _ Kaito and Shinichi will finally be together and I wouldn’t be writing _fanfiction._
> 
> * * *
> 
> Important things first, I’ll be asking for chapter name suggestions in the comments, because I suck at naming things. There will be credit to you at the end of the chapter, if I think your suggestion is fitting. Short quotes or song lyrics are preferred, but you can go nuts and do whatever. Thank you!
> 
> But, honestly, I love this AU so freaking much, it’s kind of scaring me. I’ve been wanting to write this since February, but I never got around to finishing the planning or anything. Then I got busy with other fics, and then busy with everything else, and then possibly the most stressful five months of my life—in which I made a life-changing decision that could either be the best decision ever, or the worst mistake I’ve ever made—and now I’m finally here.
> 
> By the end of this fic, when I do finish writing it, it will have been one hell of a ride, and I’ll be honoured to have you join me on this journey through hell and back.
> 
> And, well, the moral of this story is—I love a good story with a moral—that ignorance isn’t always bliss. There are, of course, other morals but that’s probably the main one, as you’ll see later in the story.
> 
> Even as I’m writing this, I still have absolutely no idea about what the hell is going to be in the fic, but I hope that no matter what happens, you and I will stick through everything together. Because I know we’ll go through hell, and dear Shinichi and Kaito will too.
> 
> But I also know I’ve planned a happy ending, and heaven knows we all need some happiness in our lives, so no matter what happens, I promise there  _ will _ be a happy ending.
> 
> Because it’s the kind of story I need, it’s the kind that I want, and it’s the only kind that I can, justifiably, ask you to bear with me until the end.
> 
> So, I apologise for my prolonged absence, and, without further ado, let us commence our journey through hell and back—together.
> 
> Happy reading!

“The question is, what price are you willing to pay?”

Something ugly twisted low in his gut at the question, and he slammed his fist onto the desk, pen almost jarring out of his hand. He closed his eyes.

He hated this.

He hated the frustration of never finding the right word, hated the long hours of staring at an empty screen, hated the research, the planning, the drafting; he hated everything about this.

He hated creating mysteries when he wanted nothing more than to solve one.

He wasn’t a storyteller, no, so he couldn’t weave stories one after the other like it was his lifeblood; instead, he was a man of honesty, excelling at laying out the cold, hard facts—a foundation supported by evidence to construct something infallible: a deduction.

He wanted to be Sherlock Holmes.

Holmes, with his deductive ability, his loyal companion, his cases. Things he had always wanted, things that always slipped out of his grasp when he needed it the most. It was the distinction between Arthur Conan Doyle and his famous character: similar, but never similar enough to blur the lines between writer and detective.

The difference between himself and the man he wanted to be.

Abruptly, he stood up, legs already moving without conscious direction. It was always these moments. These vulnerable moments when he was alone, tired of the life he led. Melancholy clouded his thoughts, and melancholy seeped into his heart. He couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t stop.

He had everything, once. A loyal friend, budding deductions, access to cases; the ethereal times of his childhood, coated in sweet memories and the glow of the afternoon sun. Ephemeral epochs, fleeting, never-to-be-kept times that he wished were now. He gave a bitter chuckle.

He would give anything—no, _everything—_ if it meant his life could be the way he wanted it to be.

He almost tripped. That was it. That was what he was looking for.

_Everything._

“Everything, huh?” he whispered, testing the word. Finally, something felt right. He almost smiled.

He would give everything just to be Sherlock Holmes; Edogawa Conan would give everything just to make it out of this alive.

How different two people’s priorities could be, when their life was on the line.

He jotted down the word, and kept walking; except this time, he made a beeline for the kitchen. After spending the better part of the month on that damn question, he deserved a reward. His eyes flickered involuntarily to the fridge. Was it time?

He spared a glance for the time, lengthening his steps towards the fridge. Just a couple steps away, and then he could have—

“Shinichi!”

He turned reflexively towards the front door, feeling thwarted. “Ran?” he called.

“Who else would I be?” she asked, taking off her shoes. “You hardly ever have people coming over.”

He scratched his head absentmindedly. “Well, _you_ come over.”

“Yeah, but no one else does, Shinichi.” She shook her head. “Honestly, you’ve got to get out more. You’re always holed up in your library, day and night.”

“Ran, I told you that—”

“—you’re busy with your work, so you don’t have time. Ever. For anything else.” She put her hands on her hips, stepping into the kitchen. “Geez, you busy writer man, no one should be busy enough to not go outside for extended periods of time.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Though, speaking of your work, you do know you have that new draft due soon, don’t you?”

Shinichi scowled. “Don’t remind me. It’s giving me enough trouble as it is, I don’t need you reminding me about it.”

“Something giving the great Kudou Shinichi trouble? How rare.”

“Yes,” he hissed, opening the fridge. “But it doesn’t matter. I’ve already resolved it.” He tossed two plates onto the counter, taking care not to damage his lemon pies. He’d waited hours for them to chill. “And I was, for your information, working on the new draft.”

“And I bet you’ve even made some headway on that question too, hmm?” she teased, an amused glint in her eyes. “Since it’s not like _somebody_ was stuck on it for a month.”

“That’s what I was talking about before.” He sat down, handing her a fork. “I was just about to celebrate that, when _someone_ got between me and my lemon pies.”

“Well I’m sorry to have cut into your _alone time_ with your lemon pie.” she huffed, staring at the pie in front of her.

“Good.” He took a bite, savouring the flavour, smiling. He’d done a good job this time around, even if he did say so himself. “Leave me and my lemon pies alone.”

She sighed. “Shinichi, sometimes I think you care about lemon pies more than me. You forget all about your friends when you have lemon pie and iced coffee in front of you.”

“How could I ever forget the girl I grew up with?” he asked, wiping a corner of his mouth. Why wasn’t she eating? “I don’t forget anyone, I just—ignore them in favour of good food.”

“Oh, is that so? I see, I see.” she nodded contemplatively. “So all I needed to do was lure you with some lemon pies? I’ve got to tell Sonoko this.”

“No, don’t tell Sonoko. Don’t. I don’t need her to have more leverage against me for embarrassing things.”

“You have such little faith in me, Shinichi. We could just be collecting information to throw you a good birthday party next year!”

“I don’t like parties! Besides, you’re supposed to be on my side. Not helping Sonoko, and worst of all my _mother_ , torture me!”

“Torture is such a strong word for what we do to you. Whether you like it or not, we’re actually helping you! It’s to prevent you from becoming a recluse!”

“Huh? A recluse?” he almost choked. “I’m not a hermit! I go _outside_! I talk to people!”

“Not nearly enough.”

He huffed, folding his arms across his chest. “Why aren’t you eating? I promise they won’t kill you.” She didn’t seem to believe that. “Come on, my baking isn’t _that_ bad.”

A nervous laugh. “Last time I had these, they were barely edible. Can’t blame a girl for being cautious now, can you, Shinichi?”

“No, but I’ve been practicing. They’re definitely better than a couple of months ago.”

“Will it make you happy if I do?”

“Yeah,” he looked up at the ceiling. “Yeah, I guess.”

He could still see her moving tentatively. He crossed his fingers as she took a forkful of pie. “This is actually really good.”

“You didn’t have to be so surprised.” he sniffed, blushing at the praise. “You make it sound like I can’t make good food.”

“You can’t. Two months ago this was barely edible!”

“That was two months ago. See? I’ve improved.”

“Yes, yes. I’m very proud of you.”

“Why were you so surprised, anyway? Did you think I wouldn’t improve?”

“No, I just didn’t think that a certain otaku’s baking would be any good.”

Shinichi scoffed. “I’m not an  _otaku_.”

“Really?” she asked, eyes brimming with mirth. “Who came bawling to me when he read “The Final Problem”? Who talks about Holmes every conversation, and who can’t stop talking about Holmes? And who,” she leant closer to him over the counter. “Who writes books about a detective models after his idol, and whose character has been dubbed ‘Heisei Holmes’ by the general public, you _otaku_?”

There was a pause. “I haven’t brought him up in this conversation, so your second point is invalid, Ran.”

“And who just mentioned him?”

He shoveled another mouthful of pie into his mouth in response. Damn it.

“I win.” She flashed him a shark’s smile. “You owe me a favour.”

He gulped. What did he just get himself into? Knowing her, and that she got an almost unholy kind of glee from helping Sonoko and his mother doing embarrassing things to him, he should probably go into hiding or avoid her for the rest of his life. It wasn’t often that she had the upper hand.

Something didn’t make sense here, either. He usually saw Ran eating shortcakes, and other sweet things, not something as bitter or sour that was more to his tastes. “Say, Ran,” he began. “You usually like sweeter food, don’t you? Since you keep going to all those cake buffets with Sonoko, and eating sweets for the rest of the day—”

“We don’t stay for that long! Geez, we don’t eat that much. Plus, I’ve always liked sweet food better than sour food.” she frowned. “I thought you knew that.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, confused. “Then why are you eating—” He gestured to her half-eaten pie.

“I just like yours.” she mumbled, and then louder. “Besides, you said it makes you happy.”

“Ran.” he started. “Ran, it’s—you don’t—you don’t need to force yourself to do things you don’t like, especially for me. Maybe it does make me happy, but seeing my friends happy by doing something they like is always going to make me happier than watching you suffer for my sake.”

“Shinichi...” she clenched her fists. “I—I just want to see you being happy, you know. The lemon pie really was nice, I didn’t lie about that, but it’s just that—you haven’t—you haven’t been happy, ever since—”

“I know why I haven’t been happy, Ran.” He turned away. “It—it can’t be helped.”

“Shinichi,” she whispered. “You know—you know that they’re just thinking of you, right? They—”

“ ‘—are doing this for me, and it’s for my own good.’ I know.”

He stood up, beginning to clear the dishes away. “Shinichi,” she laid a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t even hear her approach him. “Just stop being so pessimistic for a moment, okay? It’ll be alright.”

Didn’t she know how much he wanted to believe in that?

She kept talking. “Your books are doing well; you’ve certainly got a knack for writing them. It’ll all be fine.” She didn’t sound like she believed it, either. “Really.”

“It _is_ fine.” he said, meeting her eyes. “And it will continue to be fine. Stop worrying so much, Ran.” She nodded. “But anyway,” he said, changing the subject before the mood was ruined. “Why did you come over? Usually you come to nag me about one thing or another but you haven’t done any of that today.”

Ran blushed, to his surprise. “W-well,” she stuttered, smoothing down her dress. “I—I actually came over to ask you if—if you would—”

“ _T_ _ake a sip of my secret potion / I’ll make you fall in love..._ ”

She seemed startled. She yanked her phone out of her pocket in her dress, cheeks still an unexplained red.

“ _...one drop should be enough / Boy—_ ”

“Sorry, I’ll just—” She made to hang up, but Shinichi grabbed her hand.

“— _it’s called black magic._ ”

“You can always tell me later. This might be important, and they aren’t going to wait forever.”

She blushed at the contact, but accepted the call. “Oh, Akako- _chan_ ? Sorry, I was—” She checked her watch, and then paled. “It’s already this late? I’m so sorry! I was—huh?—oh, I’m at Shinichi’s house right now, and...I can get there in...about twenty minutes.” A quick glance at him. “What—you want me to bring him too? Why?” Pause. “Oh, alright then. Just don’t forget. I know you won’t, Akako- _chan_. Well, I’ll head over now, Shinichi in tow. I’ll see you soon!”

He stared at her. “Where am I being dragged off to now?”

“I—uh—I’ll tell you about the thing later, but for now…” She cracked her knuckles. “Shinichi.”

“Uh, yes? Am I getting dragged to some place for more girl talk?” He put his hands up. “Please don’t kill me?”

“No—well, not exactly.” She looked away. “I don’t know what Akako- _chan_ wants with you, but she sounded so serious that I don’t think it’s girl talk.”

“So you admit that girl talk isn’t serious.”

She snapped her gaze back. “Shinichi!”

“Yes, yes. No teasing about girl talk.” He slipped on his shoes, one hand on the door. He looked back into the kitchen. “Goodbye, my beautiful lemon pies.”

She rolled her eyes.

**⧜**

It was halfway through the journey that he’d started thinking again, observing the strangers as they hurried past them, children and teenagers loitering around the stores. They kept a brisk pace as they weaved in and out of the crowd, Ran in the lead, and Shinichi following behind.

It wasn’t a particularly nice day, he mused, but the temperature was surprisingly pleasant, and just being out in the fresh air made him realise how _dead_ the house was. Ran was right on that count, with him being in the library far too often, but that place was his sanctuary. He couldn’t just not go. It was where he went when everything became a bit too much, and he needed to be swept away by another author’s timeless writing.

He turned his attention to his surroundings, trying to push the almost instinctive wave of dread away, at the mention of writing. Being on a footpath like this reminded him of when he was little, when he would go car spotting with his mother, with his father pretending he wasn’t watching them, working. Honda Fit, Toyota Prius, Toyota Vitz, all models he couldn’t remember when he was little. Nowadays he could rattle off models, makes, everything, there was to know about certain common ones. Cars became a passion of his.

These days, it wasn’t much different, if he discounted his parents. Still staring outside, recognising car makes and car models, but now bound by the time constraints, and the ever-growing mountain of work. It was just so much easier as a child, living a life of unbroken golden dreams, and with the feeling that he could achieve anything, be anything.

If only his past self could see him now, he thought bitterly. He would have definitely been happy at this outcome.

Ran sent another worried glance his way, eyes concerned. He just smiled, waving away her concern with a hand. He didn’t really want to talk about it. He never did.

Ran. Her name sent another pang through his heart. He wasn’t blind to her intentions towards him, he just pretended he was. He’d read stories, of course, about how even inseparable friends could fall out after bringing romance into the equation. He didn’t want to lose his closest friend, just because he didn’t feel the same way, when he didn’t have many in the first place. He could only hope that she would meet someone better, and fall out of love with him.

They could have been together, he thought, in some other universe. Just not this one. Not after everything.

But it was because of everything that he’d wanted to give this— _t_ _hem_ —a chance. It had been hard, letting someone in. But Ran had always been there for him, even if she didn’t take his side most of the time. It was too much to hope, for none of his friends ever did, against his parents.

He’d let them in, hoping they’d understand what he was feeling, and they did. Yet, they still sided with his parents, saying things like ‘they’re doing this for you’ or ‘it’s better for you, this way’, but they never told him why.

Weren’t friendships and relationships based on trust, and not lies and deceit?

It made him wonder if they really were his friends, and not his parents’.

The worst kind of loneliness must be feeling alone in a crowd of people.

“Shinichi?” Ran stopped walking. “Are you alright? You’ve been kind of out of it all day.”

“I—I was just thinking, that’s all.” He flashed her another smile, following suit. “It’s nothing, really.”

“It’s never ‘nothing’ with you.” She wasn’t convinced. He’d done this too many times, and too often around her, that she knew what lines he was thinking along. “Tell me later?”

“Believe me, it’s nothing.” he tried.

Her eyes narrowed, but she dropped the subject. “We’re here.”

He glanced up to see the building’s nondescript appearance, and then followed her inside.

For some reason, this place gave him a foreboding feeling.

**⧜**

Ran pressed number six in the elevator, legs backed against the metal wall. He stood there with her in silence, idly wondering who this “Akako- _chan_ ” was. One of Ran’s friends, certainly, but she’d always made friends easily. Any friend of hers was always fundamentally good—maybe barring Sonoko—so he wasn’t too worried. But asking for him out of the blue? That was surprising, and a bit suspicious, but he might just be reading too much into the situation.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” she asked seriously.

“I—yes, I do. Why are you bringing this up now, Ran?”

She ignored his question, and bulldozed on. “I know you never want to, and I’ll always respect your decision, but I’ll be here for you no matter what.” She took a shuddering breath. “Don’t shut me out, Shinichi. Please.”

“ _Ran_ …”

The elevator stopped, and she turned away, breaking the moment. The doors opened, and they stepped out into a carpeted hallway. “Let’s see…I think she’s on the left side…” she trailed off, checking the name plates, clearly expecting him to follow her.

He didn’t move a centimetre. He could hear noises. Muted, but still as clear as day that it was the hushed talking of a crowd, about something out of the ordinary. He followed the sound, like a shark drawn to blood, eyes flickering down the hallway for anything unusual. He could almost smell the mystery.

He ran. There was a crowd gathering around a door, whispering anxiously. He tapped the shoulder of the person closest to him, not expecting a blonde woman whose beauty that he could only describe as icy to turn towards him. “Yes?”

“Ano, do you know what happened?”

She laughed, a tiny, eerie thing. “You know, everyone’s been asking _me_ that. Seems people can’t wait to jump at the chance to talk to me even though someone may be dead.”

“Dead?” That caught his attention. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, I don’t know for sure, but the neighbours heard a gunshot. They probably heard wrong, always listening to loud music or watching T.V., but you know.” Her cold eyes pierced into his. “Some people just couldn’t resist the mystery. Better stay out of this before your curiosity gets you killed.” She gave him a smile. “The manager’s opening the door now, and you don’t want to miss your chance, do you?” With that, she left, her styled hair swishing as she walked.

“Well, _that_ was weird.” he muttered, pushing his way to the front. “Got the info though.” Almost there, almost there. He could see the manager inserting the key.

With a resolute click, the door opened, people ducking out of its way. He stopped. The people fell silent.

The neighbours weren’t wrong.

Some surged to get a better look, others fell back, trying to get away from the scene. He didn’t do either, blocking the doorway with his body. “Don’t move!” he yelled. “This is a crime scene. _Don’t move_.”

“Shinichi?” Ran drifted into view, a worried look on her face. “Shinichi, there you are! Akako- _c_ _han_ ’s is—” Her voice cut off with a gasp. “What—”

“Ran, call the police.” he commanded gravely, his eyes never leaving the stunned crowd. “This is a murder.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, consider this to be my late Christmas present to you guys. I wish a merry Christmas and a happy New Year to all!
> 
> Chapter name is a quote by Ralph Ellison.
> 
> Friendly reminder: I’ll most likely be looking for some chapter titles for chapters I’ve posted, in the comments, and the titles chosen by yours truly will definitely be credited in the chapter notes. Preferably, the titles should be short quotes or lyrics, but it really can be anything. I suck at naming things.

**Author's Note:**

> To anyone who was looking for an update on Deathbringer, I’m sorry to disappoint, but I am kind of obsessed with seeing this one to the end, so that’s going on hiatus for a bit. I do want to finish that too, but this first.
> 
> This’ll be updated whenever, but I’ll probably update on special occasions like Shinichi’s birthday, and Kaito’s birthday, but otherwise I’m not sure when I’ll be updating.
> 
> I'm really bad at tense, and although it's getting better, there's bound to be mistakes somewhere. So if you see any mistakes—even ones not related to tense—don’t hesitate to point them out. I want to improve my writing, and my sleep-deprived brain cannot correct anything.
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> ♡ phantasmsofyou


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